Selfish Love
by meltedliripip
Summary: "A man may love her if he keeps her a secret and lets her alone when she wants to bathe, and she may love him in return until he breaks his word, as men always do". Hermione is at the pinnacle of her career and has a happy home life with her loving husband and fantastic friends; when she runs into an old acquaintance, though, old feelings are awoken, and a secret is conceived.
1. Chapter 1

_"A man may love her if he keeps her a secret and lets her alone when she wants to bathe, and she may love him in return until he breaks his word, as men always do"_

* * *

Hermione promptly shoved the chocolate frog into her mouth. She was late. Really late. Her quick snack a mere interlude in her ridiculously life, she started running down the corridor. As she did a billion things ran through her mind; get eggs - with the kids home she needed a back-up in case their so-called father didn't remember he was on dinner duty; get Ginny a present (preferably something NOT Quidditch related, that had gotten old a long time ago); phone her parents; Owl Luna to see how things at S.P.E.W. were going; book Rose an hair appointment - her split ends had grown and really needed a cut. Could she do that herself? Was it quicker to send her daughter off to a Muggle hair dresser or get the scissors out herself? And then of course the more work related problems: speak to Harry about the rogue Auror in his department; ask for her father-in-law's opinion on the misused pair of sunglasses that poor Muggle Mrs Farway of Norwich had not been able to remove for 3 weeks; the interview she would strive to stay professional during with Teddy later; and finally the meeting she was so very very late for with possibly the most important man in England. The list was never ending.

Finally, she reached the door. It's huge mahogany greatness was no longer as intimidating as it had been... was it 20 years ago? As the realisation that 20 years - give or take a year or two - of her life had passed since the end of the war and that she was now 40 years old hit her, Hermione stopped and ran her fingers through her ever greying hair. That was something else: she needed to buy some hair dye. She'd be accompanying Kingsley to the meeting with the new Muggle Prime Minister, and she didn't want him to think that the safety of the Muggle community was resting in the hands of some old fogey with silver hair. Maybe it wasn't _silver_ just yet, but she really was starting to feel old - perhaps it had something to do with her daughter returning from school for the summer insisting that her boyfriend was coming to stay with them in a few weeks - needless to say Ron had been furious.

Swiftly, she lifted her hand to knock on the door, and entered, knowing Kingsley wouldn't mind her barging in: she really needed to sit down.

The man behind the desk to whom she had grown so close to looked up as she entered, and cracked a large grin as she collapsed into the chair opposite him. "Ah, Hermione, you finally decided to grace me with your presence."

Although she knew he was joking, his remark was enough to bring on the makings of a massive apology, "Look, I'm so sorry. I should have let you know I was running late, but the meeting with Dean ran over and I still needed to speak to Mr Cooper about his son's - "

She was cut off by Kingsley, "It's fine, I was joking. I know how busy you are. Besides, we have more important matters to discuss."

She replied, "Of course, do carry on."

"Well, firstly, we have a source coming from Diagon Alley to discuss the incident on July 21st when Julie and Michael Wax found themselves in Diagon Alley. I've no idea how on earth a couple of Muggle children found themselves in the centre of our community, but mark my words, when I, or rather you, find out the details, my bet is that someone _will _ lose their job."

"Yes; someone somewhere made a massive slip up. Shouldn't we talk to Tom from the Leaky Cauldron?"

"We would but he's very conventiently been taken ill and is currently resting in St Mungo's. I tried to get in there earlier to speak to him..." For a split second Hermione thought she saw something darker than usual cross across the older man's face, but it disappeared just as suddenly as it had come, so she continued with their conversation.

"And who is the source?"

"He - or rather I gathered he was a he from the writing in the letter - doesn't want to be known until the beginning of the meeting. He feels that it would be best if the interviewer went into the situation with an open mind, given what he saw."

Hermione almost scoffed out loud at this, wondering what on earth this shop keeper could know that was so vital, he couldn't even be named. She delved into her bag and pulled out her diary before asking, "When and where is this meeting taking place?"

"Would it be okay if you entertained the source in your office? Tomorrow, at whatever time suits you."

She glanced down and turned a few pages until replying: "I can do twelve until two, or preferably four o'clock until sixish?"

"Great. I'll reply and let him know where to arrive at four promptly tomorrow afternoon. Now onto more - much more - important matters."

Hermione swiftly dropped the diary into her bag, before readjusting her suit and sitting forward, wanting to look interested in what was coming.

"I've decided to resign."

_Well, _Hermione thought, _didn't see that one coming._

* * *

Victoire stood in front of her boss, mouth hanging open. "Are you sure you heard right?"

"His voice was clear as yours is now. He says he's been office too long. And he wants me to take over." Hermione repeateded what she had told her niece moments before, as much for her own sake as the younger girl's.

A shadow of doubt crossed Victoire's face, "But, can he do that? Isn't the Minister elected by the Heads of Departments?"

"Well, yeah. But I suppose he thinks I'm the most likely to win the election, with my credentials. Unless Harry runs, of course," Hermione grins at this, "I think I'd have the best chance if Kingsley is backing me, though."

"Have you told Uncle Ron yet?" Vic is suddenly excited, and Hermione knows that through her mind are running the possibilities of parties to plan and cakes to bake to celebrate Hermione's news.

"Actually, no, I haven't. Could you send him a memo to come to my office, Vic? I know he's only down the corridor, but I really need to draft these questions for the interview tomorrow."

Victoire sends her her winning grin as she replies "Sure thang, Auntie," before walking through the open door to her interconnecting office, and taking her seat at her desk.

Although she needs to write out the questions, Hermione takes a moment to glance at Victoire outside, leaning over the lilac memo. She really was stunning, and Teddy Lupin was a lucky boy. No wonder he wanted a job working side by side his fiance.

"Crap! Teddy!"

Victoire looked up, an extremely confused look on her face. And then she caught on: Hermione was supposed to be in a board room two floors down ten minutes ago to interview Teddy for some title the Weasleys had made up to make sure their adopted member actually eventually got a job - he really hadn't been doing so well since leaving school.

Vic's desparate "Run!" was merely an echo in Hermione's mind as she rushed down the corridor and into a lift. It was only after she had pressed the relevant floor button about five times and the doors had closed on the cavernous elevator that she realised who was standing next to her in the lift.

His sneering voice was the first clue: "Well, if it isn't Hermione Granger. How are we on this fine day?"

Dread had filled her stomach before she had even looked him fully in the eyes: she had found herself alone in an elevator with Draco Malfoy.

She tried to keep her voice cold and distant as she replied, "Draco. How weird seeing you here. I didn't realise you held a position within the Ministry. Oh, and it's Weasley now, if you don't mind." She managed a smile on this last sentence.

"Actually, I do mind. I find it repulsive to believe that a beautiful thing like you could possibly have ended up with one of the Weasleys."

The smile disappeared from her face as she replied to this comment, "You didn't seem to find me beautiful at school with your constant biting 'Mudblood' comments. And if I recall, it was always the Weasleys who constantly came to your rescue during the war and saved you from Incarceration afterwards."

Luckily, the elevator reached her floor just on time, and then 'bing' filled the room right at the end of her comment - perfectly timed.

"Do excuse me, Mrs Weasley. I was purely trying to flirt with an old...acquaintance."

As she stepped out of the elevator, Hermione turned to face him. "How innappropriate."

It was with one last ironic smile that she turned and walked casually down the hallway. As she reached the end, she realised that she had walked passed her door. Annoyingly, the lift had not yet left, and Draco watched her awkward reproach to the board room. To make matters worse, she tripped as she approached the door. As the door started to slide shut, he made one last comment. And that was what Hermione was left with as she stood alone in the humongous marble corridor: "You may not have lost your know-all nature yet, but at least you're still as sexy as ever."

* * *

As Teddy sat telling her how he would simply be_ perfect_ for the job of Victoire's assistant, Hermione's mind wandered to Draco.

How weird that her heart had been racing like that whilst they hurled insults at one another. She really had never looked at him as anything other than an annoying ferretty school boy, and then purely a Death Eater who had chosen the right side at exactly the right moment, but manhood had done him a world of good: despite his unfortuante receding hair line, he had grown into his features.

Although his face remained as pointed as it always had, it simply suited him far more. The face which had become so gaunt in the last few years of their schooling had once again filled out, and he could be described as... well, as handsome. He had retained his skinniness even in his middle age, and after years of the Malfoys trying to rebuild their name from nothing, he once again had looked amazingly dressed and groomed.

If she was honest with herself, Hermione may be able to admit that during her first few years at school, Draco had been handsome and slightly desirable. Even after calling her names, a small crush may have resinated. It was only after Viktor and his Death Eater tendancies had become apparent did she fully get over this.

Anyway, Ron had always been her main interest.

Suddenly, she cut Teddy off: "Ted, you've got the job. Lets not pretend that this meeting wasn't for appearances only. Start today. There are spare desks downstairs: if you can summon one, set up next to Vic. Now if you'll excuse me, I have something I need to tell my husband."

With that, leaving behind a confused yet very happy blue haired young man, Hermione rushed out in pursuit of her husband - the excitement at the possibility of becoming the new Minister for Magic had kicked in, and she needed to see him before Vic let slip her news for her.


	2. Chapter 2

"But…well…how could you be minister for magic?" Ron sits across the desk from Hermione, a cup of tea in his hand and a bemused expression on his face. Hermione sits across the desk, a mug of coffee warming up her hands.

"And what is that supposed to mean, Ronald?" Hermione's face looks furious as she stares back at him.

"It's just that…yeah, you were all the smartest witch of your generation or whatever, but are you really cut out to run the country?"

Hermione sighs before setting her mug on her desk and saying, "I knew you'd think this. It's about Harry, isn't it?"

It's a statement, not a question, but Ron still answers her, "Of course! He's the boy who lived, Mione. He might want to run for the job, and more importantly, people are going to want him to."

"Harry is an Auror by nature - he loves being out in the field. Remember how much he struggled when he became head of department? I love Harry, you know I do, but everyone in the ministry knows that poor Padma does the admin side of the job for him while he's out in the field, basically looking for trouble," she juts her chin as she makes the statement, "I'd be better for the job. You know it, Kingsley knows it and I know it."

Ron just sighs, and an uncomfortable silence ensues, before Hermione erupts, "I know it was Harry who killed Voldermort and freed us, but who dealt with the consequences? That was us, Ron! We were the ones who stayed and cleaned Hogwarts afterwards while Harry and Ginny were doing Merlin knows what. I'm the one who's spent their life undoing all the horrible anti-Muggle laws they imposed."

"And what about the kids? Our life?"

Hermione almost laughs, "How on earth is any of that relevance? The kids have practically left home - half of the year they spend at school, the other half they're with their friends or cousins. Even when they're actually at home they're only half there. And our home? I never signed up to be a housewife Ron!"

Ron takes one, long look at her before standing and saying, "You're not Minister yet, Hermione. I don't know why you're acting like you already are."

* * *

A mere few moments later, Hermione finds herself pacing in the most famous man alive's office - none other than Harry Potter.

After she's finished telling him about her day, he looks up from his news paper and says, "So, basically, you're telling me about Ron being a...an idiot?"

Hermione flushes with anger, "I guess, but he can be such a prig sometimes, Harry!"

"Why does it matter what he thinks?"

"He's my husband."

With this statement, Harry summons a mug from a cabinet in the corner of his office. He points his wand at the inside of the cup and out pours a stream of cocoa.

He smiles, "Chocolate makes it all better, remember?"

She smiles too, remembering their old life. Soon they are talking, about everything, in only the way the two of them can together; work, old memories, the kids and office gossip.

Suddenly Hermione remembers something. "I almost forgot! I ran into Malfoy in the elevator earlier!"

"Draco?"

"Of course. He tried to flirt with me I think."

Harry chortles at this, "Of course he did."

The look on Hermione's face prompts him to explain: "Simce his father died, he and the rest of them have developed a massive change of heart. Apparently Scorpius is dating a half blood at school and his mother is trying to encourage a tolerance."

"That still doesn't really explain it. He hated us at school!"

"Come on, no he didn't! His father did. And now he's gone I guess Draco's finally caught up to the rest of us," when Hermione's face remains confused he continues, "'Mione, you're…a very attractive woman. A lot of people in the Ministry have put money on who you're going to date when your marriage deteriorates."

"How ridiculous! I love Ron."

"I know that, and I know what you've been through together. But nobody else really does. And arguing in public doesn't really…quench - is that the right word - the gossip."

"Poor Astoria."

When Harry looks confused by this, she continues: "Come on, imagine if Ginny openly flirted with other men."

"Well it's slightly different, seeing as me and Ginny are still together..."

"The Malfoys aren't together anymore?"

"Haven't you heard? It was an arranged marriage and now young Sorpio - "

"Scorpius, Harry…"

"Yeah, well, now he's at Hogwarts they figured it didn't matter if they weren't together anymore. Draco lives in Diagon Alley now above the new robe shop."

"Barely new, it's been there, what, 8 years...?"

"God, I sound so old," Harry's face looks concerned as he says this.

"You've changed. A lot, since the war."

"So have you. We all have."

* * *

Now dressed in jeans and old t shirt, Hermione stands at the stove in her own kitchen. She can hear chattering upstairs - clearly both the children are on Skype.

Making the decision to use technology and electricity in their home was a choice which Ron had not been entirely happy with - being brought up entirely magically he was almost suspicious of Muggle artifacts, but Hermione had insisted that being brought up by her muggle parents had taught her the best of both worlds, and she was all the better for it now. As she saw it, Voldermort's removal from his Muggle orphanage and submersion to complete reliance on magic may have had a lot to with his...instability later in life.

Leaning over the eggs - no surpises there - scrambling on the stove, she picks up a picture resting against the spatula container. It's of the four o them - Rose, Hugo, Ron and her - on their holiday to New York. It was the week before Hugo was to start school, and they all looked so happy.

As annoying as she found her husband? Hermione could not deny that he had given her the two greatest gifts she would ever receive.

Suddenly, she feels arms around her waist and a voice in her ear.

"I'm sorry," it whispers.

As the hands wonder up her body she guesses who it is.

"Oh, Ronald, how can you make me feel so happy and so mad all in one go?"

"It's a gift, I suppose."

She spins around, "Food's ready."

"I thought I was on dinner duty?" Ron asks, a frown on his freckles face.

"You weren't here, so I made eggs."

He lifts up a brown paper bag, "well I got Chinese."

Hermione suddenly feels furious, as she dumps in the frying pan in the sink. All forgiveness which filled her a moment ago now gone, she almost shrieks, "Well you could have let me know!"

With that she runs from the kitchen, up the stairs, up and up, until she reaches the attic - her office. She slams the door and hears Ron calling out to their children.

Her first instinct is to sit down, but instead she walks to the window and looks out - then she picks up the phone and dials a number she had hard-wired into her brain when she could first pick up a phone and have pretend conversations.

Her mother picks up on the second ring, "Grangers."

"Mummy, it's me."

"Oh, Hermione! I was staring to wonder if I'd ever hear your voice again."

"Don't joke, Mum."

"I wasn't. You haven't called all week."

"I'm sorry, I've just been so busy with work and the family."

"How are my favourite grand kids?"

"They're doing good. Always out, I barely ever see them these days."

"Just like you. From when you were eleven, you were always at school or with the Weasleys. Good thing too," her mother chuckles down the phone.

"I'm sorry for practically leaving home. I get how hard it is now, watching my babies grow up, and becoming redundant."

"Oh don't be ridiculous. Kids always need there mothers. You're on the phone to yours right now!"

"I miss you so much, Mum."

"You can come visit anytime."

"You know, I think I may do that. Before the summer's over."

"Sweetie pie, your room's exactly the same as it was the last time you left it."

"I've got loads to tell you, more than I can over the phone."

"Well save it all up for when we see each other. I've got to dash now. Take care."

"Love you, Mama."

"Love you too, my Hermione."

Then there's a click and Hermione is alone.


	3. Chapter 3

The following day, as Hermione sits at her desk staring into space, she thinks about Ron, who she has not spoken to since the night before. She loves him, dearly, and they've been through so much together, but sometimes she feels so...so stifled. Like the monotony of Ron every single day is pulling her down, so that she can't breath.

She turns to look out of the door to where Vic and Teddy are messing around. Victoire is leaning over his desk, holding out some piece of admin. The look on both of their faces - they're clearly completely smitten. And as much as she loves her life, Hermione wishes she could go back to that.

She spends the day at her desk, miserable and working away, until at ten to four, Victoire comes in.

"Sorry to disturb you, but you've got that meeting at four. He should be here any minute."

Hermione looks up, remembering, "Of course. When he arrives, send him straight in."

"Alright."

She turns and struts back out, before doing a twirl and curtesy, most probably for Ted's benefit.

Hermione stands and walks to her book shelf, and spends a moment looking at the novels behind the glass door of the shelves. Some muggle books, some magic, there is still so much out there that she has not read or explored.

Suddenly, a hand is on her shoulder, and she hears a rather raspy voice in her ear, "Well hello there."

She turns slowly, bracing herself for the shopkeeper who doesn't know the limit. Instead she is once again met by the face of Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy," is the only word which she can get out.

He sneers, "Hello, Miss Granger."

"Weasley, I think you'll find."

"Ah, but isn't Miss Weasley that ghastly ginger kid who was in the yet below us?" He laughs at himself.

"She's Mrs Potter now. You really ought to learn some respect, Draco."

She places emphasis on his name, just so he knows how little she respects him.

She continues, "And I'll have you know that my eldest child is ginger."

Draco stops sneering and looks deadpan for a moment, "How dreadful for you," he says as he takes a seat on the sofa near the fireplace, and waves his wand so that a tumbler of fire whiskey appears in front of his face.

"If you don't mind, I'm expecting company. I'd rather you left now."

Draco gestures a hand in the direction of his body, "You are expecting me."

She is speechless for a moment. Of course. Malfoy owns the robe shop in Diagon Alley.

"Well, then. I suppose we'd better get down to business."

She grabs a quill and parchment and takes a seat opposite him. However, she's somewhat put out at his continued chuckle.

"Oh, Hermione. I don't really have information about those Muggle kids. I just wanted an appointment with you, and as one of the important persons in England, this was the only way to do it."

"You slime ball."

"I suppose you could say that. Either way, I need a job. And you can get that for me."

"Inform me, Malfoy," she says his voice with contempt, "why on earth the Ministry would want to employ you."

"Why, wouldn't it be the perfect cover story when you run for Minister? That you have a reformed Death Eater working for you, wanting to make the better place after his mistakes."

"It would be perfect. But I see no such man up for the job."

Malfoy's ever present smile drops from his face. "I am reformed, Granger. Just because I'm still rude and arrogant, that's not to say I'm not reformed in other ways."

When she doesn't say anything, and looks down to avoid his glare, he continues, "wouldn't Albus Dumbledore have sympathized?"

At the mention of her old Headmaster, Hermione's head snaps up, and she has sudden sympathy.

"I'm not the person you need to speak you. Senior undersecretary to the Minister, Oliver Wood, is your guy."

Draco scoffs, "The professional Quidditch player?"

When Hermione merely raises her eyebrow, he apologizes, "Sorry, sorry. I know, I won't get any where with that attitude."

As they stand up for him to leave, Malfoy's face softens for the first time. "Sorry for playing dirty. I just haven't in a while. Needed a break from nice."

Suddenly he leans in, and suddenly but softly places a kiss on her mouth. "I've been wanting to do that since yesterday in the elevator."

He turns and leaves the office, leaving Hermione stunned and touching her mouth on the spot he had kissed her.

She whispers under her breath, "Woah."


End file.
